Zanyar Adami looks down at Bagdad from an airplane heading to Sweden. His mother is still down there at the airport. His father isn ́t even there to wave goodbye. At the time, Zanyar is only five years old.

23 years later Zanyar sits in his kitchen in a suburb of Stockholm. His father, Taher, sits in front of him. Any day now, Zanyar will become a father himself and he knows that he can’t wait anymore.

Taher Adami gets up every morning at dawn to drive his taxi in the streets of Stockholm. He does eve- rything he can to forget his past; the torture in prison, the murder of his brother, the shootings during his time in the guerilla. To keep away the memories he seeks refuge in music; he dances tango, plays the piano and sings. But he can ́t hide his past anymore. His coming grandson awakes memories and his son demands answers.